People sometimes say 'oh, so and so fell from the ugly tree when they were born' which is mean and I don't approve. Some REALLY mean people also say '... and hit every branch on the way down'. What a ridiculous thing to say! People do not fall from trees when they are born. They are squished out of their mum's area, sometimes accompanied by a pooh! Much more dignified!
But it doesn't stop there. There is seemingly no end to the list of things at which I am crap!
Here's a short one:
- sitting still
- putting (ie putting things on other things, not like crazy golf. I am amazing at crazy golf).
I am crap at eating. I'd say a third of the time I miss my mouth. Our cream sofa is no longer cream, its a mottled collection of Thai Sweet Red Chilli Sauce Red, HP Sauce Brown, Pizza Grease Yellow and Chocolate Smidgeon Pooh Smear; a tribute to Jackson Pollock, if you will. Although its not a tribute at all, but a sad reminder to my ever suffering man that the woman with whom he is in a relationship is in fact some retarded lady-child, which I'm sure prompts him on a daily basis to seriously question his life choices and decisions.
But actually I looked like this:
It was epic! I'd seemed to have amassed more crumbs on my jumper than constituted the piece of toast in the first place. It was quite a skill! But sadly one I have yet to leave behind in favour of the more adult skill of getting food into my mouth and it staying there *quickly adds 'power to make mass of food increase exponentially through process of botched mastication' to CV*.
The same goes for drinking - I often look like babies do when they teeth, however its not greeted with 'aw's or 'poor thing' or 'give her a thimble of brandy! That'll shut her up!'. Its met with wide eyed sneers of disbelief and sometimes pity, as perhaps I have an unidentified syndrome which means I am incapable of displaying motor skills more advanced than your average foetus.
The sad thing is that there are so many stories of my unrestrained malconess that I fear regaling them all here would be too much of a malco influx to anyone reading it. There was a tale of malco in my blog post 'Hattie's Diagnostic Prowess' if you have yet to read it and want to know more of what I'm prattling on about. I'll save the rest and drip feed you with tales of malco from my malco pez dispenser in due course.
Happy weekend everyone :D